Invasion [Toward the Outpost] Chapter 19

Entwined by tentacles, tightening their grasp as they dragged him down to the ocean floor, Ni Ji even thought of death.

Death was no great matter to him.

Since everyone else was gone, it was only fitting that he, too, could die at any moment.

Eternal rest might be a kind of everlasting peace and release.

Yet, those cold, slimy things that coiled around his tail and pinned him against the seabed’s rocks did not inflict the torment he had imagined.

They did not even hurt him.

After seeing the memories he had deliberately placed on the outskirts, the guide suspended in the deep sea still wore that expressionless, inscrutable face—void of any hint of anger or joy.

But those tentacles crawled up along the crescent-shaped muscles and, somewhat brusquely, took turns stroking his head.

Perhaps having endured so much despair and prolonged suffering, even the slightest warmth from others was instinctively grasped and magnified by him, cherished deeply.

Moreover, he had witnessed those memories played openly.

Seemingly impartial, devoid of personal emotion in their retrieval and playback. Yet he knew the guide had deliberately cut off and concealed a small fragment.

This cold, even antagonistic guide, after invading his mental landscape, treated him with unexpected gentleness.

A kindness from a stranger,

Protecting what the fallen warriors had devotedly sought to guard.

Outside the window, the rain poured heavily, drumming densely against the glass, tracing winding rivulets.

Ni Ji closed his eyes, recalling the northern border outpost where he had fought for many years.

At this time of year, snow already blanketed the land; the boundless world lay like jade, the earth frozen and cold.

The harsh winter had long since arrived. Survival was tougher than ever.

The fragments of memories played publicly at the training ground had been clipped just slightly at the end.

After the researcher was killed and the living bug jade shattered, there remained a brief follow-up scene.

The avenging sentinel bent down, painstakingly gathering the scattered pieces of bug jade from the ground.

Though broken and lifeless, these shards had lost much of their worth and were no longer prized by the lofty elites.

Yet, in such a barren northern outpost, they could sustain many lives and provide vital provisions for families through the winter.

He gathered the bloodstained fragments and carried them out of the contaminated zone, exchanging them on the black market for charcoal, cotton, food, and sweets.

Inside a small wooden cabin at the snow-covered northern outpost, a warm light glowed.

The heavily pregnant mistress sat by the table, knitting a sweater while gently patting her young daughter asleep beside her.

At that moment, a knock came at the door.

“Who is it?” she asked, steadying her belly as she rose to open it.

A duty soldier from the outpost stood outside—an elderly woman with both arms amputated, replaced by mechanical prosthetics.

She braved the snow, pulling a cart piled high with winter supplies.

“These are your family’s share from Tazi,” the aged woman smiled warmly, moving the goods inside with her slightly rusty mechanical arms. “Tazi and the others might not make it back in time for your delivery. Don’t worry, I’m here for you.”

After unloading, she took from her bosom a pouch of imperial coins, warmed by her body heat, and placed it into the woman’s hand.

“The captain specially asked me to give this to you.”

“Oh my, so much?” The pregnant wife was both surprised and delighted.

Though saddened by her husband’s absence during the birth, she was grateful for the abundant food and money. At least she and her child could survive the winter safely.

She lifted her gaze toward the window, where only deep darkness and wildly swirling snowflakes met her eyes.

There was no tall, ugly man who had always been kind to her.

A faint unease stirred within her, yet she summoned the courage of a mother.

Not far away, at the dim entrance of an alley,

A young woman with big, wavy curls opened her cigarette case. With fingers painted black, she took out a cigarette, lit it, and took a drag.

“What’s his meaning?” she scoffed, blowing smoke rings with practiced ease. “If he’s not coming, why send the money? A breakup fee?”

“No, he...” The sentinel standing before her had red-rimmed eyes, choking back words. Stubbornly, he extended his hand, offering the pouch filled with imperial coins.

The girl, hardened by years on the streets, first sneered, then slowly grew puzzled, and finally understood.

She stood stunned for a long moment, trembling hands fumbling before she managed to place the cigarette properly between her lips. She drew in a fierce breath, then, somewhat flustered, exhaled the smoke into the biting wind and snow, lifting her face as if to blow away the tears in her eyes.

“Does he... does that man have any words for me?”

“He said—he hopes you take this money and live well, find a new way to live.”

The dark, filthy alley felt especially silent on such a snowy night.

Only a woman crouched on the ground, her hand clutching the cigarette hiding her beautiful brows and eyes.

“Bastard, that bastard.” She cursed through tears.

Pure white snowflakes drifted down, tenderly settling on her shoulders as if to soothe her.

At the dilapidated orphanage, a large cart full of winter supplies stood piled outside the gate.

The children cheered as they emerged to receive the candies distributed to them. Having never tasted so much sweetness, they were as joyful as if celebrating a festival.

Yet they did not see the orphanage matron, usually smiling warmly, now standing in a corner before a stranger, her head bowed, covering her face as she wept uncontrollably.

...

After a night of torrential rain, the sun shone brightly once more.

Lin Yuan sat in Cao Yun Yun’s living room, watching her busily feed dinner to her twin children.

Cao Yun Yun, Lin Yuan’s only friend from the Guide Academy days, was two years her senior. She had long since married a sentinel assigned by the state, freed from the obligations of guiding, and devoted herself to managing the household and raising children.

A television atop the living room cabinet displayed a news broadcast. Viscount Klein, dressed in formal attire, was handing out consolation gifts to families of fallen sentinels amid sunshine and flowers.

The soldier families, neatly dressed, accepted the gifts from the marquis with tears of gratitude.

Benevolence to all beings, joyful hosts and guests, the scene was lively and warm.

The whole world basked in sunlight, bathed in the pure radiance of the White Tower, filled with love and tenderness.

“It’s all just a show,” Cao Yun Yun said as she opened the oven, took out a roasted piece of braised beef, sliced it, arranged it on a plate, and packed it into her husband’s lunchbox while speaking to Lin Yuan.